


The Elixir of Pleasant Memories

by Green_Demoness



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Light Angst, Out of Character, Potions Accident, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Demoness/pseuds/Green_Demoness
Summary: Kormac has been shaken after the Fall of Maltael. Valla and Tyrael look for a way of taking out that state of sadness. However, the potion to recuperate memories has a side effect that no one expected, and now, the Archangel of Justice and the Demon Huntress will need to deal with a worthy enemy that defies reason.( The Burning Hells will be waiting for me after this)





	1. Side Effects may be observed....

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [O Elixir de Boas Memórias](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14176605) by [Green_Demoness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Demoness/pseuds/Green_Demoness). 



> English is not my first language, so maybe there are grammar mistake and weird (too formal or archaic) words, feel free to point them out.
> 
> If you hadn't played Reaper of Souls yet, there will be some spoilers. Read at your own risk...
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, nothing besides my own words. Blizzard who got this idea before.

* * *

 

     Kormac has been deeply disturbed since Maltael’s fall, when he discovered all the truth about his beloved Order. The Templar was crestfallen, quiet and of the little he could sleep, he revolved in bed, being consumed by nightmares. His happy and innocent countenance disappeared as taken away by the wind and, now, a dark cloud hovered over him.

    The Nefalem, Valla, noticed how the Templar’s behavior had changed. Initially, she thought that was a reaction from the last days. Fight against the dead, invade Hell to destroy the Evil incarnated and some time later, had to kill Death itself was too much to assimilate at once. The Demon Huntress give him space to pull himself together. She was trained to accept the horrors in the world. Darkness always would be necessary to have Light. However, this wasn’t so simple for Kormac. To them, the Order, the evil should be eradicated entirely and by any means and when the Templar discovered that they were very similar to what they fought against, it was impossible to don’t be dragged off by a wave of hopelessness in front of such delusion.

    Valla tells about Kormac’s internal conflict to Myriam. She expected that the Vecin had any advice that could help the man before he could lose himself in the waters of guilty. The mystic, who unfortunately understood more of magic than of the human soul, suggested an elixir of pleasant memories. This should be able to recuperate a good moment in his life and take him temporarily out of his blue spirit. The potion has a simple effect. It took anyone who drinks it to a delirious state in which they to see the last pleasant memory that they had. The Demon Huntress rolled her eyes. The semblance between that effect and those produced by any drug or evil elixir was worthy of suspicion.

      – Nay, Huntress. This will sooth the pain in his heart for some hours. After that, it will be easier to him to face reality, knowing that life has its ups and downs.

     With an unbelieving grunt, the huntress goes after the ingredients. Black Mushroom and Khazra horn powder. Valla feel something was wrong. The elixir sounded too miraculous. _Maybe I am wrong_. She had seen the doors of hell be open, and abominations walk upon the earth many times. What’s the harm in give some credit to a little potion? In the worst of the scenarios, the placebo would prove itself useless. Without a shadow of doubt, Kormac would not die by drinking the mix. _A little faith and hate never hurt, right?_

      The Huntress saw the green beverage bubble in the mystic’s cauldron. That, in no way, resembled something with the objective of remembering good memory. It looked more like a poison or a resurrection elixir for necromancers. Again, that bad feeling run downs her spine, but she cast the sensation aside when Myriam hand her a closed vial.

     – The taste isn’t really good.

      Tyrael was sitting near the counter of Slaughtered Calf Inn when Valla run into him. He was marking the new hunts in a map of New Tristam. The archangel turns to tell the alarming increase of monsters that required her “attention”, but the flask on her hands catch his eyes before he said anything.

      – What is it? – It’s a pleasant memories potion. To Kormac.

      – I’ve never heard of a potion like this before. What does he want with it?

      – The Templar hasn’t been very well since the end of our journey. Something is deeply affecting him.

      – Is he hurt?

     – Not really, Tyrael. Physically, he is fine, but something is bothering him here – point to her heart – I don’t know if you angels ever felt something like this.

     – Like… anguish? Well, indeed, we don’t feel it, but we know what it can do with a suffering man’s mind. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk with Kormac.

      The Templar was leaning against the window. His look was lost in the horizon, reflecting the melancholy that devoured him every day. The entrance of the visitors didn’t pull him out his absorbed state. Only when the Nefalem called him by his name that Kormac noticed her and Tyrael’s presence in the room.

       The tired face of Kormac show dark circles under his caramel eyes and a short smile cross his lips, then vanishing to the same gloomy face. Tyrael gets near him and lands his hand on Kormac’s shoulders.

     – We came to see what is going on with you, Templar.

     – It’s nothing. I am just tired.

     – Kormac… we know that it is not just that – Interrupts the Demon Hunter.

     Tyrael looks at Valla, silently asking her to let the Templar take the first step.

    – We are worried with you because of your spirit in these last days. You can get whatever bothers you out of your chest.

     – I… I can’t take the Order out of my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking in all horrible things that they have done with the initiates. And, maybe, with me too. I am felt that I have lost the north of my life.

     – Don’t say that, Kormac. Remember that you are not responsible for the misdeeds of your Order. Think in all good that you have done for the Light. You followed the path of good even when your Order was corrupted.

     – You’re right, Tyrael, but I still feel like I’ve lost a part of me when I left those Templar's bodies behind – sighs – Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and get back in a good moment of my life.

     – Maybe you can – the Hunter hands out the vial to him – It’s not permanent, but you’ll be able to see a pleasant memory from your past.

      Kormac shakes the flask, making the viscous liquid dance. His eyes express distrust, but quickly he shrugs it off dishearteningly.

     – What do I have something to lose, right?

      The Templar drinks the potion in one shot. Seconds after, he starts to coughing heavily and falls to his knees. Tyrael hold the man before he passes out. Kormac grasps the archangel’s clothes and look at him expressionless and without any other reaction to his surroundings.

    – Huntress, what is going on?!

    – I don’t know! Isn’t that what the mystic promised me!

    – Kormac, look at me. Are you okay?

     Kormac stare at Tyrael and start smiling. Recovered from the initial effect of the potion, he hugs the angel, almost knocking they both down.

     – Templar, what are you doing?!

    – Daddy, you’re back!

    – What? Kormac, I am not your father! Let me go… by the Light! Huntress, CALL THE MYSTIC HERE RIGHT NOW!

     When the Nefalem came back with Myriam, the Templar was still hugging the angel, with his head leaning against Tyrael’s golden armor. The Vecin starts to laughs as if there is now tomorrow. Tyrael gets obviously annoyed with the weirdness of the situation.

     – Why is he doing this? – Well, that’s very simple, his happy memory is with his parents.

     – Didn’t you say that it would be his last memory? – Valla snarls.

     – It seems that he has been suffering for a long time. Such old memory.

     – But why is he calling me father?

     – This potion alters the senses, mainly the vision. Then, he might be seeing his father on you. Maybe he isn’t even seeing himself as an adult. Kormac, my dear, how old are you?

      Kormac raises his head of Tyrael’s chest, looking at Myriam, then take one of his arm around of the angel’s neck, showing his open palm.

      – Five years old, huh? Let’s see, who is your mother, little Kormac?

      The Huntress looks at the Templar with dread, praying to don’t be his mommy. The nonchalant tone of the mystic was making her crazy. Myriam had set up a circus and has been having fun with their despair. However, Kormac turns his glance away.

     – So, is it me? – opening her arms – Come with mamma!

     – You’re not my mother!

Kormac turn to crush the angel with his unmeasured strength. He was on the brink of crying. His body was asking to the angel protect him from those unknown women. It was not necessary to ask anything. They understood that, probably, Kormac did not know his mother. Maybe she had died when the Templar was too young to remember her.

       – It’s okay, Kormac, it’s alright – running his fingers through Templar's hair – But now you need to loose me so I can… breath.

      Tyrael untangle himself from Kormac’s arms and get up quickly before Kormac decide to attack him with another bear hug. The Templar stays sit on the ground, looking amazed to the angel. If someone entered in that very moment, they would never say that man was one of the responsible for the death of Diablo and Maltael. This exact thought ran across the mind of the Huntress. They could not let him go out of the room in that condition or all New Tristam would think that the man had gone mad.

      – How long does this potion last?

      – Until the dawn.

      – IT IS NOT EVEN MIDDAY! What will we do all this time with him?

      – You overcomplicate everything! Play with him, tell him a story or any other thing that a child would do!

     – Oh, nice hint! I am not sure if you noticed but no one here has mother and father instinct.

     – I would stay with him, if I didn’t have a stall to take care and, unfortunately, he doesn’t want anything to do with me.

     – And, unfortunately, this frustrates your plans of bury his head in your breasts, right?

     – WHAT? NO! I mean, I would never think of something like that – pointing to the door – My stall. I must go back to it.

      Tyrael and the Demon Huntress look at each other while the mystic sneak out of the room. The archangel was mortal so little time that he could barely understood his own needs, let alone the ones of a “child”. Valla, that had a little sister called Halyssa, worked in the farm when she was little. Then, both had not a single idea of what they would do for the next hours.


	2. Little Kormac, Big Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Demoness is back in town... with college papers after her tail;
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be posted sooner;
> 
> Again, feel free to point out any grammar mistake, weird syntax or too formal/archaic word in the comments.

* * *

 

    While they thought in what would they do to distract Kormac, the Templar pull his sword from the sheath. Both Tyrael and Valla run to take the weapon from his hands, not even wanting to imagine what could happen if that sharp blade was kept in the hands of that “child”. The Templar makes an upset face and start to cry. However, that wasn’t a silent cry, he scream loud enough to scare anyone who could be passing outside.

     – Calm down, Kormac, don’t cry. We are going to find another thing for you.

     – We? You are his “father” – said Valla, shrugging herself off.

     – Please, Nefalem, you who gave the potion to him.

    Lorath Nahr, who was looking for Tyrael in the tavern, hear cries and shouts coming from the Deckard Cain’s room. Fearing that another demon would have appeared there after any ancient scrolls, he burst into the place, terrified. His eyes linger on a furious Tyrael to an even more furious Demon Huntress to stop on Kormac. And then, the two which had decided to let the least of people know about such incident, had to add the Horadrim to their circle.

    Lorath takes a cube out of his pocket and shows it to Kormac, levitating the object in his hands before handling it to the man. The Templar looks amazed and starts to concentrate to put the piece in the air.

     – Everybody likes wizard sources – messing Kormac’s hair, that smiles to the Horadrim.

     – Thank you, Lorath, we were desperate too – sigh Tyrael.

     – This kind of potion has caused many trouble around. You should talk with the mystic to… discourage her in making more of those elixirs.

     – You can be sure we will – snarl the Huntress.

     – Well, it will not distract him for so long. I would recommend you to get another thing soon. Why don’t you ask a wooden sword to Haedrig? He may find it strange, but I think he won’t refuse doing it.

      – Only his mind is like an of five-years-old kid. Do you want to play with swords with someone who can tear a demon in one blow?

      The Horadrim laughs nervously and walking backwards. No, he didn’t have joined the Order nor survived Maltael to that. There are more honored ways to die or be beaten up by a one meter and eighty centimeters high child.

      – Well, let him inside will only raise the chance of someone more enter here and discover his temporary secret. Why don’t you take him to the ruins of Tristam?

      – Don’t you think that there is a little… macabre? – interrupts the Huntress – We killed dozens of monsters there, probably there still full of guts and bloodstains.

     – Actually, no. Since there is no corpses walking there anymore, some troops and families buried the bodies of their relatives and cleaned some fallen debris.

     – Are they thinking in to rebuild the city? – ask Tyrael.

     – No, they only don’t want to leave an open scar. The residents’ plan is to make the place a sanctuary to remember the dead.

      It was not difficult to they leave the city. Nobody would ask where they were going or what they would do. And for the more curious, there always will be the good and old excuse of “We’re going to hunt some monsters”. The Nefalem couldn’t hide her annoyance. She didn't have hiked up mountains and crossed deserts to pose as “happy family” with an ex-archangel and a child-minded Templar. However, Tyrael was right. She had given the potion to Kormac, hence, she had her share of fault. The other part of the share was Vecin’s. And she would see why her motto was vengeance.

    Tyrael walked alongside with Kormac, discretely taking the Templar by the hand. The difference of their height was small, although the archangel was a little bit taller. Both look more like a couple than father and son. Tyrael could have ignored the pleading fingers in his, but he felt sad for the fact that “he” was the last (and maybe the only) pleasant memory that Kormac had in years. It would not hurt him to pretend to be Kormac’s father for one day. Moreover, it would be an opportunity to comprehend better the human social relationships.

    Old Tristam was nothing more than a heap of rubble of stone block and planks. It wasn’t looking like the field of death and destruction of some weeks before, but, it didn’t look like the great city of yore. To transmit the sensation of tranquility that a sanctuary needed, it still would be necessary to take out a lot of things. Kormac, who don’t remember anything like tearing the dead in the soil where they step upon, looked at everything with curiosity and enthusiasm.

     – What happened here?

     – There was a great war between the humans and the de…

     – TYRAEL!

     – What?

     – He is too young to this – whispered, hitting the archangel with her elbow – Actually, Kormac, a strong storm came one night and everybody had to move to another place.

     – Did someone got hurt? – ask Kormac innocently.

     – No, just all Tristam residents had to leave their houses behind.

      When Kormac was away gathering some flowers, Tyrael, confused, get near the Nefalem.

     – Why did you lie to him? This isn’t right!

     – Obviously it wasn’t the best of the options, but he will not take it in as you and me, Tyrael. Children are smart, but they can get traumatized with a bloody story between humans and demons. Even more, when he is one of the main characters.

     – I don’t know. I don’t like to lie, even when it is for a good reason.

     – Don’t you worry, one day you will get used.

    Before Tyrael could reply, Kormac comes back with two bouquets of marigolds and hands them out to both. They look without reaction and mouth a “thank you” weirdly. The archangel, from the little he knew about humans, knew that was a way of demonstrating affection, although he usually saw young lovers giving flowers to young ladies. The Demon Huntress was worried because that flower is usually embellishing cemeteries. She prayed that the plants weren’t wet with demon blood.

     – Let’s play hide and seek? You start counting, daddy.

     Kormac disappears among the ruins before Tyrael could ask anything.

    – I don’t know what I have to do, Valla.

    – It’s very simple. You will count to 30 while Kormac and I hide. After that, you had to find us. The first one you find, will count in the next time.

    – It sounds interesting. Is it a kind of military training?

    – No, it is just a child’s play.

     Despite everything, nor the Huntress and neither Tyrael could deny they were having fun. Kormac could hide himself with skill regardless being tall as a door. Maybe his child-mind indicates the best hideouts. The Nefalem took advantage of her dark clothes to camouflage herself in the midst of the shadows. The archangel, in turn, didn’t had any notion of where to hide, at times, letting his shiny armor expose his location.

     At some point, Tyrael had already found the Nefalem, but no shadow of Kormac. They looked up for him in all parts of the ruins, seeking under every rock and behind any pile of wood. They get worried, specially Tyrael, that felt his heart sinking with the possibility of the Templar went missing. The Demon Huntress points to the city’s gate. Um of its side was crumbled on the ground, giving passage to the farms. She believed that Kormac could have hidden beyond the ruins.

     They split to cover more area. Unlike the city, the field still had some skeletons scattered over the ground. There hasn’t been any dead walking since the fall of Maltael, but this was not a setback to other creature who were rambling those plains. If the Templar, in normal condition, could fight in an equal to equal manner with dozen of Khazras, the same could not be supposed while he is in that mental state. The Huntress herself was afraid of the story of monsters – that took away children that approached the fences of the farms – when she was a little girl. However, now that wasn’t a merely story to scare children, but a real threat.

     Tyrael calls for Kormac without answer. He suffered with an unknown feeling. It has like wanting something so much and didn’t have the certainty that we would achieve it. He wanted to find the Templar by any means and something inside him says that he would suffer even more if he didn’t find the man. The tears start to blurs his sight. Why was it so hard to be mortal? Be sure of nothing and a myriad of feelings that storm his heart in a minute to another. Tyrael didn’t regret his decision, but he could not deny it was being more difficult than he imagined.

     When he was about to let the tears stream down through his face, the archangel sees Kormac stretching his hand to a Scavenger. Tyrael runs and push Kormac away from the beast.

    – Shoo, creature of Hell.

     The scavenger feeling cornered, runs back to the bushes. Kormac was scared, not of the monster, but of the sudden reaction of his “father”. He starts to sob, hiding his face in the Tyrael’s neck.

     – Kormac, are you hurt? – without answer – Let me see your hands.

     The Templar lets Tyrael pull one of his hands out of his own neck. Apparently, the archangel saved the man seconds before the Scavenger bite him and torn out his fingers.

     – Why did you do that, Kormac? That beast is dangerous!

     – I… I didn’t know, daddy. I just wanted to pet it.

     Tyrael sit on the ground and puts the warrior over his lap. Firstly because Kormac still had not let his neck go and second, because the Templar was too heavy for his mortal body hold for too long, standing in his feet.

     – It’s alright, Kormac – stirring the Templar's brown hair – I was just afraid that it had hurt you.

     Kormac nested more in Tyrael’s arms, leaning against the chest of the armor. The heart of the archangel, that was full of despair minutes before, fills with warmth. Tyrael feels like protecting the Templar against anything from that world. For a moment, he feels he would be capable of going down to Hell and pull Diablo by its tail for the Templar's well-being. He did care for the well-being for the other residents of New Tristam too. Tyrael had a great regard for each one who lived there. However, what he was feeling now for Kormac was a such big love that he felt like he was in the middle of paradise again. As if he knew what was going on inside the archangel’s mind, Kormac lifts himself up and kiss Tyrael’s cheek.

     – Daddy, I love you!

      Tyrael’s face burns. He didn’t expect that. Does the Templar love him? Or did love the father figure reflected on his face? His heart shrinks when he considers it’s probably the second option. Nevertheless, he could not stop feeling that necessity of having him near and of taking care of him. Maybe that was the love that humans felt for each other, but it was also the rejection that the soldiers talked about so much in the garrisons. The Huntress runs at them, breathless. She throws her hands to the sky and thanks Akarat. She was relieved for finding they well, because she had seen many creatures, including some Khazras, rambling out the fields. That was a sign something evil was hidden in that soil. The sun shines squarely over their heads, showing that was time to return to the village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * 1m 80 cm = 5,11” ft
> 
> * Marigolds = In Portuguese, the name of this flower could be roughly translated as "Corpse's flower" "Dead's Blossom"
> 
> * Also in Marigolds = it's common to see them as cemetery decoration in Brazil.


	3. End of effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's aliv... I mean, finished. Enjoy! =)

* * *

     When Valla, Tyrael and Kormac returned to the Slaughtered Calf Inn, three steamy dishes waited for them. While Kormac eat peacefully his puree and meat, Tyrael turn and toss the food from one side to another of the dish, what draw the Demon Huntress’ attention.

     – What happened, Tyrael, feeling your stomach upset again?

     – Oh, no. That doesn’t happen for a long time. I was thinking about Kormac.

     – Is something wrong about him?

    – He said he loved me.

    – That’s what children usually say for their parents, uncles, grandparents. It’s different from a “I love you” between two lovers. There isn’t no other intentions beyond that, just a pure feeling.

     – I feel this, Nefalem. The question is that affect me in an unexpected way.

     – Explain it better.

     – When I saw the Scavenger about to bite him, he felt so afraid of losing him. It was in a different intensity than the fear I feel of losing you or the Horadrins. It hurt deeply here. And now, I look at him and feel something so indescribable.

     – It’s called love, Tyrael. It manifests itself in many ways. It can be carnal, fraternal, between friends, father and son and between two people. A great admiration is also a kind of love. Yet you aren’t Kormac’s father, you feel he is somehow bounded to you. In a way that simply exists and doesn’t ask anything in exchange.

     – What kind of loves did you had, Valla?

     – Many. In some parts of my life, I transit between all kinds of love. First, for my parents. Then, for Halyssa. Sometimes, for boys and girls.

     – And now? For us?

     – For you, I feel a great admiration for everything you have done for the humans, for everything you renounced, besides a strong friendship. The same I feel for Kormac and his braveness, and for Lorath and his knowledge.

     – I feel a great admiration for you too, Nefalem. I cherish Lorath for his discipline and courage of joining the Horadrim. I think what I have felt for Kormac was the same I felt when Maltael came after the Soulstone. Fear of losing something important that was under my responsibility.

     – You wanted to protect both more than anything.

     – I don’t know what I will feel when the effect of the elixir fades.

     – So you like the father role.

     – Yes, having him in my arms was comforting.

     – If it makes you feel any better, there are many others here in New Tristam who need a bit of your love. I’m not talking about the children only, but some adults too, like Rumford, Haedrig, and even Lorath. They need a little of affection sometime. I would risk saying that Kormac will still need you after the end of the potion.

     When he was in High Heavens, Tyrael never thought that those feeling were so important to humans as the air they breathe. He felt something slightly similar for his siblings, even for Imperius, but he believes they were designed for such things, so they would not turn against each other during the war against the Burning Hell. However, now he could see how much those feeling are nurtured. No love, even those spontaneously arisen, would survive without someone caring to it bloom. It was not something unilateral. Or both loved or no one truly loved.

     Kormac, Tyrael, Lorath and Valla spent the rest of the day playing riddles, blind man’s buff (which almost ended with a broken window) and marbles, made of precious stones by Shen. The night falls in Tristam, taking the tired residents to theirs houses. Lorath goes back to the his room at the Inn, and the Huntress goes to Leia’s room.

      Kormac was sunk waist-deep in a tub, spilling water in the ground as he splashed waves with his hands. Tyrael, who was watching to be sure the Templar would not find a way to drown himself, gets tired of seeing the floor being soaked while the dirt remained in the warrior. So he starts to lather the Templar's caramel colored hair. While Kormac dries and dresses up himself – something that luckily he could done himself – Tyrael entered in the low leveled water. The archangel knew that tomorrow Kormac would not be that well of love and warmth he was being hours before, he would be a man seasoned with war and bitter with his life choices. Being his “father” would have to be different. If Tyrael hugged and dragged him to his lap, Kormac would flee thinking the angel had gone mad. Nevertheless, he still has some hours.

      After the bath, Kormac insisted in sleeping alongside the archangel. He was afraid a demon would appear after him. Valla was right. Children didn’t assimilate scary stories very well. It was not a good idea telling him about Diablo. But what else could he do? Lorath was telling about the celebrations in other cities, but his whispers weren’t low enough so Kormac wouldn’t listen. As the Huntress was away, Tyrael summarized the story for him. Without any doubt, the Templar was thinking an infernal being would get from under his bed during the night.

      Although the bed was meant to a couple, the carpenter would never imagine such big couple. Tyrael had to lay Kormac’s head in his chest, letting the Templar hug him, so none of them would fall out of the bed. Before sleeping, Kormac drowsily asks:

     – Daddy, do you think I will be a great warrior like those that killed Diablo someday?

    – You already are, Kormac – kissing his temple.

     After some minutes, Tyrael hears a calm snore, demonstrating the Templar was having a peaceful sleep. His eyes closed after, sleeping only when knowing his warrior was fine. When Tyrael wakes up, the sun was entering through the room’s window, but it was not the light that awake him, but the not subtle attempt of someone taking the arm from under his back. Kormac violently blushes red in the moment their eyes met.

     – By the Light! I don’t know what happened…. Or why am I here…. What have I done?!

     Tyrael gets up and tries to hold the Templar to explain what happened, however, in the second Tyrael takes off the weight over the warrior’s arm, he darts out the room without listening a single word.

     – KORMAC! COME BACK HERE!

     Tyrael mentions the Templar's weird reaction to Valla, who does nothing beside laugh.

     – Why are you laughing? He panicked when he woke up.

     – Maybe he thought the potion had induced him into something not so chaste with the Archangel of Justice.

     – I think I don’t get it.

    – It’s better this way, Tyrael. I can talk with him before he jumps from a bridge, thinking he committed a terrible blasphemy.

     Valla finds Kormac in his room, wrapped in a blanket, rocking forth and back. His eyes were wide open. The Demon Huntress explain the events that occurred in last the hours, highlighting he doesn’t done anything wrong and hadn’t any relationships different from a father-and-son one. A sigh of relief leaves the Templar.

     – So, nothing happened… I mean, I feared I had…

     – You don’t have to explain yourself, Kormac. Just go the inn and calm down, Tyrael, who was really confused with your desperate flight.

     When the Nefalem and the Templar arrive at the inn, they found Tyrael trying to spoon-feed Lorath, who ineffectually tried to stop him and get back the spoon. The Horadrim had burned his hands when he was helping Miriam change the cauldron of place. Without other option due the thick bandages, he accepts Tyrael’s help. The archangel kiss one of the hurt hands, whispering the mantra “this will pass.”

    – I see I have a little brother now – says Kormac, picking up a bowl of porridge.

   – You will have many little brothers, Kormac.

   – It sounds nice. I was always an only child. Lorath eyes the two as if they were talking in a strange and ancient language. Before the puzzled look of the Horadrim, all start laughing and continuing their breakfast. They would explain everything to him after, without any hurry, because they had a long day ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> P.S: The game calls female DH, just Demon Hunter, but I rather call them Demon Huntresses just for the sake of the fic...


End file.
